


Post High; Pre Op

by Confused_Foam



Series: scoliosis can bite me [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Implied Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou (mentioned) - Freeform, Light Angst, M/M, Matsukawa and Hanamaki too breifly to justify tagging, Medical Themes, Mild Language, Or more up for interpretation than implied, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:22:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Confused_Foam/pseuds/Confused_Foam
Summary: A physical just to get college medical forms filled out lands Hajime with a worrisome referral to follow up on when a long ignored and mostly forgotten scoliosis diagnosis from almost six years ago is rearing its ugly head.





	Post High; Pre Op

The thing about physicals, especially physicals with a specific purpose and paper work, is that the are unfortunately through Hajime decides. Or, at least they are apparently so when done properly. New hands on staff at the pediatrician's office his mother has been dragging him to since birth means new operating systems when it comes to physicals. Maybe it is measurable easing of the patient load or, more probably, the fact that he has no history with this new doctor that allows closer examinations. Whatever it is, Hajime ends up in the bright colored exam room going over absolutely every box and line on his apparently outrageously outdated patient file. 

He personally thinks the whole spiel is tedious, but plays along with unending questions about family health history, if he wears his helmet while biking, what percentage milk he drinks and how much a day. On and on and on, giving awkward negatives to some of the more errr...personal questions that he supposes just come the 17 year old package. The records really must be dated, because Hajime can’t remember going through huge chunks of these questions practically ever. Eventually the doctor moves away from the computer and actually puts some damn gloves on and asks Hajime to hop up on the exam table. The proceedings are slightly more normal from here. Bright lights in his ears and eyes and mouth interspersed with half hearted talk of academics, and questions about post high school plans that actually what brought him in the first place, pre-college physicals for the schools medical records and all. Slightly more stinging discussions of volleyball swing about as the doctor guides him through a long list of neurological tests he is pretty sure he has never done in his life. Hajime would almost rather answer the questions about his non-existent sexual activities again the receive yet another bit of uncomfortable obligation pity over the clipped wings of his high school volleyball dreams, so when they fall into silence he makes no attempt to fill the quiet room. 

Just when Hajime thinks things are winding down, having spent the past few minutes trying not to succumb to the childhood habit of kicking his legs against the metal sides of the exam table while the doctor pecks away at his keyboard filling in results, there is a pause. The doctor squints at the monitor, and then turns his rolling stool around the face Hajime with what he considers a rather worrisome frown. While he personally can’t recall being on the receiving end of things, he was around for enough of Tooru’s knee troubles to know that frowning doctors are never a good sign. “It says on your record that you were diagnosed with scoliosis?” There is an implied ‘Well what’s going on with that?’ that Hajime can hear tacked on, and his worry winds a little tighter. 

“Um. Yes? I was diagnosed when I was about...12.” He grips the edge of the table, crinkling the protective paper even further than he already had just by sitting on it, groaning as the doctor remains politely silent to allow him to continue. The truth is, in the rapidly closing in on six years since he was diagnosed he hasn’t done much about his spine. Of course they got the checks done when he was first diagnosed, x-rays and specialist visits and all, but when the results came back as mild at worst the concern got pushed aside. After only a handful of visits the whole thing was lost in the never ending sea of volleyball, Tooru, and the nightmare of juggling all this new middle school homework between the two. The details of his visits are fuzzy, coming from a time where he stopped listening after it was said he could still play sports no problem and let his mother worry about the rest. Slightly shamefully, and in far fewer words, he shares this information.

“Well, we need to do a check on that, as these things do have a tendency to get worse as you finish out growing.” The idea sits heavy somewhere between his heart and the bottom of his stomach, but Hajime obediently stands up and bends over to touch his toes. His knuckles stay pressed to the cold floor tile as the doctor makes a few concerning noises from behind him and pushes his t-shirt up and runs equally cold hands down the middle of his back. “Alright, please take a seat Iwaizumi-kun.” Hajime prefers to blame the sudden chills on his increased exposure, even after he is mutely sitting back on the exam table with his shirt returned to its proper position. “Now, do you have problems with back pains Iwaizumi-kun?” The frown is back in place and more exaggerated than ever, and suddenly Hajime wishes his mother wasn’t out in the waiting room where he had assured her that it was fine she stayed through the exam. 

The doctor's question doesn’t sit well at all. Not in the way that it avoids talking about whatever the doctor saw while he was bent over. Not in the way that it implies what the doctor saw while he was bent over. Not at all in the way it fills him with doubt and pulls up a slight problem he had been sweeping under the rug for pretty much ever. “Not really. I mean...I guess it is more discomfort? Sometimes? Just a little bit of stiffness and sometimes it is a bit sore I guess.” Small little irritations he had pushed to the side and normalized as stress, or too much time hunching over his forsaken math homework, or just what happens when you have had the same hand-me-down mattress since you were 11. All little causes, nothing to worry about because it obviously wasn’t anything to affect the way he functioned on a day-to-day, or more importantly, affect volleyball. 

“I am going to give you a referral to an orthopedist Iwaizumi-kun. Please see go see them as soon as possible, as I do think your curve has gotten much worse since it was last checked. “ The rocky ground that Hajime’s view of himself as at least somewhat steady and...well maybe level headed is a bit much... capable of dealing with his shit has stood on for the week and a half since their untimely loss drops out of the sky right along with his stomach. His remaining time in the exam room feels a little distant, just a few closing remarks and formalities before he is being pushed out to the front desk and getting a slim stack of papers shoved in his hands. There is a brief exchange about faxing numbers with the college paper work, and then the secretary is wishing him a lovely afternoon. Before Hajime is even fully caught up to himself they are in his mother's car and he is spilling out about x-rays and orthopedics.

It feels feels a little easier after spilling everything to his mother and letting her take the papers from his very willing hands. She handles the whole thing a bit more readily than he had, and they are straight on their way to the x-ray place in jiffy. After a few motherly assurances, the quiet ride is only filled by the low sounds of the local pop station Tooru left the radio tuned to yesterday when Hajime’s mother had come to pick them up from a somewhat late evening spent in Matsukawa’s living room. 

___________________________

One thing Hajime remembers from trips accompanying Tooru is that x-rays are either the longest process ever, or take less than 15 minutes, and it seems like there is absolutely no in between. Given that it is not even 11 o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday, Hajime is done so quickly that his mother is still on the phone with the orthopedist’s office by the time he comes out. He just catches the confirmation for of an appointment on Friday as he is rounding the corner out of the faculty and into the hallway. “This Friday?” the inquiry is tenser than he would like to admit, and goes down for later denial right along with how much he widened a hole near the bottom of his shirt just waiting for his mother to say her thank you’s and get off the phone. 

“Yes Hajime. This Friday, in the morning. It’s ok. I’ll be right there with you. We can even bring Tooru along if that would-”

“No!” Hajime shouts, interrupting his mother startling both of them a little and the custodial worker walking up the hallway a lot. He mumbles an apology to the man before continuing at more appropriate volume. “I don’t need him there. Actually don’t tell him at all. Please. I...I want to have more information, and then I’ll tell him.” It hasn’t even been two weeks since the loss against Karasuno, and Hajime is still not sure how Tooru is really dealing with everything. This is the last thing he needs thrown at him, or so goes the excuse Hajime gives himself, ignoring the fact that he doesn't think he could tell him about it if he tried. Thankfully, he mother let’s it slide after a long considering look. 

“It’s you choice was to do about him.” She eventually allows, giving her son a firm pat on the arm. She leads him back to the car, and the drive home is long stretches of faint pop music broken up by little bits of everyday chatter.

As far as Thursdays go, the one spanning the gap between Hajime’s two appointments isn’t the worst one he has ever had, but it still totally blows. It is hard enough to hide a weird dream from Tooru and his freaking all knowing gaze, let alone the way the next morning is looming over his head all day. Hajime lies and omits his way through a handful of idle questions about how his physical went before just putting on a pour show of being annoyed and getting the subject changed. He outright ignores the questioning stare Tooru levels on him while babbling on about some girl neither of them really care about. Matsukawa and Hanamaki are his saviors through the lunch break, as he feigns high interest in their conversation while avoiding Tooru’s increasingly irritated eyes. 

Things start to fall apart on their walk home, without the wonderful distracting duo and a full school days worth of Tooru stewing in his suspicion. They aren’t even two blocks from the school gate when Tooru breaks down and out right asks. “Are you okay Iwa-chan? You’ve been weird all day. Actually listening to Matsun and Makki’s meme babble at lunch. Staring out the window during math.” The ‘avoiding me’ is implied blatantly enough Hajime is pretty sure the sparrows hopping around the telephone wires can pick up on it, and he just draws further in.  
“What the hell? Of course I’m fine Shittykawa.” He’s looking dead ahead, even when he knows it’s a pretty obvious tell. Neither one of them properly lie if they are looking the other in the face. An inconvenient side effect of too much shared history. Hajime knows he’d be caught the second he met Tooru’s eyes, at least avoiding them he maintains just the slightest bit of doubt. Looking away helps with the guilt to, and the feeling like he could crumble and spill his guts any second. 

“Nothing happened at the doctor’s yesterday?”

“No.”

“Then did something happen with Aunty?”

“No. Leave it alone Oikawa. “

“But you-”

“Leave it the hell alone!” 

Hajime really snaps after a few more rounds of pestering, yelling and giving a few threats and generally blowing his top enough that the rest of their walk home is silent. At least until they are closing in on his house. Tooru is still frowning at him when the pause in front of Hajime’s gate, and he returns the look for a few seconds before speaking up. “I won’t walk with you tomorrow. I have a morning appointment. See ya.” He escapes into the house as quickly as he can, ignoring the fresh battery of questions Tooru fires at his back in favor of slipping into his house to go hide in his room as quickly as possible. Hajime spends the rest of the night pretending not to see the three texts Tooru sends him.

__________________________________

The growing collection of texts remain unread, numbers increasing rapidly during what would be his lunch break and again following the final bell as Hajime doesn’t make it back to school after his appointment. Instead of the stairwell that is the approximate halfway from all their classrooms, lunch finds Hajime pushing food around at his own kitchen table. Quiet as they both are now, the conversation that just ended with his mother bounces around in his head along with the buzzing of his phone against the table. 

The orthopedist was far more efficient than the doctor Hajime had been referred by, one middle aged Saito-sensei who couldn’t have spent more than 15 minutes in the exam room speaking to him and his mother. A glance at his x-rays pulled up on a screen that had occupied all of Hajime’s attention while waiting, and a request to see walk across the room and bend seemed to be all the man needed to deliver stomach turning news. Be it now or when Hajime was pushing up into his forties, at some point the unwelcome curves in his spine would require surgical attention. He spent the rest of the appointment letting his mother do most of the talking, too tongue tied and dizzy to have any intelligent questions for Saito-sensei. In fact he didn’t find a proper voice until his mother was merging the car back onto the freeway on the drive home. 

“With...With everything Sensei was saying he made it pretty clear that he thinks I should get the operation now.” Hajime paused for a moment, looking at his mother for reassurance out of the corner of his eye. The small, tight smile she offered up was enough to get him to continue, more thinking out loud than discussing. “The recovery time would be better, and the risk of complications would be lower...He even said that if we scheduled it soon I would be completely recovered to move for college. Volleyball is already over for the season, so it wouldn’t cut that short.” Here he pauses again, years and countless hours of practice sitting weighing on him like the whole of the Sendai City Gymnasium. “Its….he said that I could probably play again, even if it wasn’t the same. That it doesn't tend to hold people back… That a girl who had it at about this age does olympic judo. So...it wouldn’t...I could… It wouldn’t be the end of volleyball.”

“Hajime my love, I don’t think there is a thing in this world that could keep you off the court completely. But what about the negatives, what are they? It’s ok to have them dear. This is a big choice, I know.” Hajime had silently cursed his mother, and the steady way she could prop her son up when things got tough and he felt more like a little kid being thrown to the world than an almost-adult ready to take it on. Negative had flowed freely from him, admissions that the whole thing was scary as crap and he had never had anything more serious that a sprin how did they expect him to jump right into a major surgery. Even as they got home and his mother began cooking lunch, he continued to talk in a circle of what even he could recognize as substantial positive, and negatives that spawned mostly from the more anxious corners of his mind. Eventually he talked himself out, and that was what left him pushing lunch around at an almost silent table. 

Realistically he understood that doing it now was the best option, however much he would love to leave the problem to future Hajime. He had two curves in his spine, both of them hovering around 50 degrees and well into the area that they would keep getting worse as time went on, regardless of the fact that he hadn’t grown a centimeter in verging on two years. If he agreed to do the surgery now, he would have the whole summer to devote to a recovery that would apparently be a breeze, at least compared to how it would go in twenty something years when it would mean time off work and his body would have a much harder time pulling itself back together. Sitting there, Hajime knew what he was going to do, it was only taking him awhile to work up to admitting it out loud. After awhile, he pulled together a bordering on light tone; “I’ll break 180. Sensei said I could expect to grow anywhere from 2 to 4.5 centimeters,” and it's enough to get a chuckle from his mother. Feeling like he might swallow his tongue, he forges on, “I want to do it now. Before things can get any worse. But...Not before school ends.” This seems to be enough for his mother to let him go, looking pointedly at the phone he leaves sitting on the table as Hajime escapes to the back yard. 

______________________________

By the time late afternoon rolls, Hajime tucked away in his room with at surgical date planted rolling around in his head. His mother is nothing if not an efficient woman, and before the flood of concerned after school texts flood his phone she has already made a point of ringing the ortho office and getting a date mostly set. Two days after graduating high school, which is only a month away, Hajime is to be at the hospital by 7 in the morning. He will stay for 4 to 5 days while recovering from a posterior spinal fusion procedure that should only take around 4 hours under the knife so to speak. Hajime can’t help but be completely horrified that this is actually happening, and looking at the picture he took of his x-ray earlier isn’t helping much. The fact that his spine more closely resembles an S than anything he had seen in biology textbooks and on any number of plastic skeletons is stomach churning itself. Honestly, if it wasn’t so jarring Hajime would be grateful for Tooru bursting in his dim room still dressed in his school uniform. As it is though, he jolts and fumbles his phone when the door knob hits his wall accompanied by a far too loud “HAJIME!” Tooru’s concern is clear enough in his tone and the use of Hajime’s first name is makes it even more so. They have come to an unspoken agreement that first names are only for late nights or serious conversations. The concern is warranted he supposes, aware he has been acting very odd the past two days. Avoidance and lies have always been more Tooru’s game, and Hajime is usually the one who has to come banging in to kick start him again when things start to go off the rails. Dark bedrooms and unanswered texts are a far cry from the way he usually boils over when things are crumbling; Even if it is just to yell and make noise, Hajime has historically been quick to seek the other. 

Before Hajime can even collect himself from the shock he is being squished half flat by 70-something kilos of worried teenage boy. A twin bed really isn’t nearly enough space for two nearly grown, highly active boys on a good day, and concern seems to have turned Tooru into even more of an octopus than usual. By the time the flurry of motion settles down they are so tangled up and Tooru’s face is so close that Hajime couldn’t turn away from him if his life depended on it. “What’s going on Hajime? Aunty looked worried, but she told me her bully of a son had sworn her to secrecy.” Inquiry brushes across his face with warm breath, and in spite of the subtle dig is accompanied by brown eyes that leave no room for Hajime to dodge in. Not that he particularly wants to, thin shell blown to smithereens the second Tooru wrapped him up tight. He does push just a little, but closer in to bury his face in Tooru’s shoulder. It’s a little less frightening to share worries when he doesn’t have to see what they do to his friend. 

Tooru’s body heat is more effective at loosening Hajime’s lips than any glance his mother could shoot him across the car. He is pouring out like a faucet, disorderly and cutting himself off making less sense as the minutes tick by. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Tooru’s listening noises have turned shushing and mummers of his name. “Shhh….shhh Hajime...Settle down for me. Shh...You know the breaths, you’re so good at helping me with them. Come on Hajime….shh” Hajime tries to let himself be soothed, eventually hiccuping his way through some measured breaths under Tooru’s guidance. They lay there in relative silence until he is mostly dried out and breathing easier. Crying like an absolute disaster, even though he can already feel the headache it left him with, seems to have helped. Or at least restored his ability to think in a straight line. Which is good, because Hajime has known Tooru plenty long enough to know that this silent show of support isn’t going to last. 

Sure enough, it is only a few minutes until Tooru is pushing back on Hajime enough that he can get a look at him. “Hajime. No. Look at me. You are going to be okay. You are plenty strong, and when you aren’t Aunty and I will be. This...It’s just a speed bump. Isn’t that right?” There’s a pause, Hajime giving an unsure nod under Tooru’s searching eyes. Whatever it is he finds, it must be satisfactory because the corners of his mouth turn into a teasing smile. “It takes more than a little bit of scoliosis to keep down a brute like you anyway Iwa-chan.” The words come with long fingers digging into Hajime’s ribs, and suddenly there are tears in his eyes for an entirely different reason. Things don’t settle down until Hajime manages to force the taller boy off him and the racket of all 70 plus kilos of flailing Tooru hitting the floor earns them a warning yell from elsewhere in the house. They try and shush each other, gasping and giggling like elementary schoolers with a secret. 

The pair is stuck even closer than usual from then on. The days have their ups and downs, and Tooru is spending so much time at their house that his father actually takes the time to drop by, giving the boys a heavy handed hint that, just maybe, his wife would appreciate seeing her son at dinner. He leaves with a firm slap on both of their backs, and speaking the unneeded truth that “Oh of course she wants to see you too Hajime my boy. Come by some time.” Though it is true, Tooru has been away from home most nights since the news broke. Between the stress of high school wrapping up, and just what that means for Hajime, they are both fraying a bit at the edges.

Looming surgical dates get easier to deal as Hajime gets more used to the idea, and Hajime isn’t sure if he is surprised or not at how much Hanamaki and Matsukawa help him keep it together when he finally lets them in on what is going on. The troop of third years has taken over the Iwaizumi residence on this Thursday night, almost two weeks after Hajime’s appointment at the orthopedist. It is obvious that they both know something is up that they are not in on, but either they managed to figure out it is something they shouldn’t push on, or Tooru had words with them while Hajime wasn’t around. Either way, he doesn’t particularly care anymore, comfortable enough with the reality of his situation to share with his former teammates. The explanation he gives them is much smoother than the sobbed mess he gave Tooru, and Hanamaki and Matsukawa take the news with serious faces. Well, that is until Hajime hands the pair his phone to check out the x-ray. They study it silently until a slow grin crawls its way across Hanamaki’s face. “You know Iwaizumi, I always thought Oikawa was the slimy one of us all. But apparently you are an actual fucking snake.” Tooru lets out a rather undignified squawk at being called slimy, but Matsukawa and Hajime are busting up, Hanamaki and Tooru not too far behind them. 

_______________________

High School ends too quickly for any of them, their final weeks slipping away in a torrent of tests and goodbyes. By the time Hajime is leaving campus on his last day, the list of people who know about his up coming surgery has grown considerably. The volleyball team has been pelting his with a barrage of well wishes since he told them last week, and Tooru has a good laugh on one walk home telling Hajime about Kyoutani’s demands that Tooru keep him posted on how things go over. Hajime is equal parts touched and amused by Kyoutani’s and really everyone's concerns. The talk over dinner is almost entirely taken up by Tooru and his mother teasing him, saying they won’t be able to visit around all the flowers sent by “well wishers and admirers of Iwa-chan’s huge biceps.” 

The jovial air they have all been trying to keep up around the house falls apart on the night before the surgery. The three of them are wound tight as they eat a late dinner. Hajime isn’t allowed anything after midnight, and even though at the time he is far too nervous to be hungry he knows not having anything lingering in his system in the morning would just make things more challenging. So they all choke down some food, and Hajime’s mother changes the sheets on his bed while he and Tooru tackle the pre op antibacterial wipes. Three minutes with the first wipe just on his back, which seems like an endlessly long time when Tooru seems to think that the first few layers of his skin are a major infection risk. The second wipe is three more minutes on the rest of his body, and Hajime takes over for this, using far less force. Alarms are set and good nights said between the boys and Hajime’s mother. Their own goodnight never really comes, because even though Tooru can’t cram himself in the bed alongside Hajime not even divine intervention could keep him from pushing his futon right up to the bedside. They mumble to each other in the dark room until they both just slip away into unconsciousness. 

Morning comes early, alarms set practically alongside the sunrise so they can get to the hospital on time. Things are even more muted than they had been the night before, but the three of them run through the motions. Hajime doesn’t say anything when Tooru takes off whatever skin he had missed the night before as he helps with the mandated morning wipe down. The car ride to the hospital is no less uncomfortable, with Tooru and Hajime awkwardly chattering and trying to joke around. But Hajime can see his mother's white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, and every nervous bounce of Tooru’s knee knocks into the back of his seat. 

Check is a nightmare of questions from the overly gabby woman running the window they get pointed to when they arrive, but it is over quickly enough and their little troop is directed upstairs to Same Day Surgical. The nurses hustle Tooru out of the room while they go through the motions of getting Hajime set up. By the time they let him back in to wait for the roll back order Hajime is gowned and IV’ed up and laying on the bed. The nurses have administered a mild sedative, to keep him calm when they do start pushing him back into pre op, and it is already starting to do it’s work as Tooru pulls the second chair from beside Hajime’s mother and right up to the bed. Hajime is talking now, just rambling on about something to do with the volleyball team to his mother with words just a touch to slow, but he redirects his attention when Tooru sits down. “You better let Mom visit first when I wake up asshole. But you better be the next person I see after that, you understand?”

The serious tone and intense eyebrow furrow pulls a chuckle from Tooru, but he is fairly serious while answering. “Aye-Aye Vice Captain.” And Hajime seems almost satisfied by this, but he continues to stare until Tooru runs a hand through his mess of half flattened spikes and makes his eyes slip closed. “See you on the other side Hajime.”

“Fuckin’ better Tooru…” Hajime mumbles, only half opening his eyes when the hand is removed from his hair. He steadily grows less coherent as he mumbles his way through commentary on the people passing by in the hallway with his mother and Tooru, and is pretty well out of it by the time some hospital staff comes in to roll him back. The nurses telling his supporters that they can follow them back and get to the waiting area that sound far away, and most the actual transit is blacked out.

He becomes slightly more alert as they enter a room he assumes is pre op, by between being sedated and lying down any details about the room escape him. He can tell there are lots of people around, can hear them talking, but all he can really see is gloved hands of whoever it is putting some sort of breathing mask over his nose and mouth. The order to take deep breaths comes through clear enough to be followed, even though he is far go enough that he doesn’t know if his eyes are open or closed. Hajime is almost entirely incapable of counting, but he is pretty damn sure that he doesn’t make it more the two breaths before things become one big blank and he goes under without even the thought of fighting the anesthesia or what follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Howdy Hey. So this started as a couldn't sleep ramble and got a bit out of control. The events in this are in no way representative of every scoli patient, but they are a very close representation of my personal experiences. Actually this is something I've been dealing with very recently. I am a little over two weeks into recovery from a Posterior Spinal Fusion (T4 to L1). The rapid pace of Hajime's referral to scalpel transition is my experience. Wednesday 4/12 I had a physical, Friday 4/14 I saw ortho for the first time, and 5/16 I had my operation. Scary stuff. For anyone interested slightly more detail about scoliosis, or anyone who might be dealing with it themselves I open myself up to try and answer any questions. 
> 
> Also- this was beyond minimally edited and I apologize
> 
> Finally, I chose to end this with Hajime going under just before the surgery because personally I found pre op and post op experience to be entirely different beasts. Something focusing on post op and recovery might come up, depending on peoples interest and my inspiration.


End file.
